Infinity
by annaliesegrace
Summary: Word of the Day series of stories. 11/28 Terpsichorean (adj): pertaining to dance
1. Chapter 1

Title: Infinity

Author: Annaliesegrace

Rating: T (though some chapter could maybe creep into M – you will be warned)

Summary: A series of independent one shots that will follow the Word of the Day format.

AN: Hello readers! This will be a series of one shots, mostly unrelated but all Cat/Vincent. Some may follow the eps, some will be stand alones. All based on the word of the day app from . Now, this won't be updated every day, I frankly don't have time for that; I'm hoping once a week or so. I hope you guys enjoy and feel free to leave a review on your way out.

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Canonize (_v_): To glorify and honor; to consider or treat as sacrosanct or holy.

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At some point during the nine years he had saved her life in the woods and now, when they had finally officially met, he had placed her on a pedestal. She was this beauty that he watched from afar, content to watch her life unfold in the shadows. Realistic (until recently) that he would never be part of that life.

Maybe he had lied a bit when she'd asked if he had been keeping tabs on her; he had, just far longer than she or even JT realized. Since that night so long ago, he had watched her change careers from law school to the academy, graduate top of her class and quickly move through the NYPD ranks.

From the moment they had seen each other in the woods, he'd known there was _something _about her. Yes, he had been protecting her when he'd taken out the men who had killed her mother, but being only a year post Muirfield's attempts at exterminating him, his control during the "beast" times was tenuous at best. And yet, he had been capable of stepping away, of containing the rage that consumed him so as not to hurt her.

It took so much effort to control himself when the adrenaline kicked in, so much to maintain control, it was physically and mentally exhausting. And yet he managed it, because he _had _to, because if he didn't…they won. Muirfield would have complete control of him, and somehow that was far more frightening than the beast inside.

So when the realization hit the night before that Catherine was afraid of him, he didn't know what to do. After so long he'd established contact with the woman he had followed and watched for close to a decade and she was frightened of him, of what he became.

His world had tilted on its axis and suddenly the fight didn't seem worth it anymore. The best thing he could do was turn himself in to keep both JT and Catherine safe.

And their (her) safety was paramount to him. Because she was on that pedestal.

When they showed up at the warehouse, he was both angry and grateful they had cared enough to find him and stop his admittedly stupid plan. Because if it hadn't been for them (her) by now he would be a science experiment again as the Muirfield scientists tried to figure out what exactly went wrong. If they didn't just outright execute him.

Reaching her building he sent a quick text before just as quickly making his way to her fourth floor fire escape. He hung back until she settled into the window frame before tossing her the ball. It _had_ been an impressive homerun.

They spoke of the circumstances around their…peculiar relationship.

"I wish this was easier," he'd finally admitted.

"So do I," she sighed before adding, "It will never be normal with us, will it?"

"No."

Silence again reigned and he could sense she was contemplating something. After several long minutes she spoke again, "How long have you been keeping tabs on me, Vincent?"

Her tone was very much that she knew it was longer than two weeks ago after the run in in the alley.

"A while."

She wasn't sure she wanted the answer, but Cat asked anyway, "What's a while?"

"Catherine…" He wanted to lie, or at least avoid the question with a sidestep, but she deserved more than that after everything. "Since that night in the woods."

She sucked in a breath. "Oh…that's…a long time, Vincent."

Vincent dropped his head, in shame or embarrassment he wasn't really sure. "I know."

She played with the stitching on the softball she held. "How often?"

Vincent thought about lying, but figured he was all in at that point. "Not often at first, maybe a couple times a year. The last couple years it's been…more."

"Why? Why me?" Now she looked at him. "You've saved plenty of other people."

He scoffed slightly. "Not like you."

The words hung heavy between them and she let out a soft "oh".

"The man who took me…he showed me a picture of her, my Mom. She was at Muirfield, Vincent. She worked there. Are you sure you didn't know her?"

He shook his head. "I knew they were following her, I figured she worked for them in some capacity."

She shook her head and pushed back tears that threatened to fall, fingers moving more quickly over the seams of the ball. "I can't believe she would be involved in this."

He reached out a hand and covered hers, stopping the frantic movement. "Maybe she didn't realize what she was working on. I have to imagine to keep their risk low they either lied to the scientists or they each worked on their own parts. It's hard to put the pieces together when you can't see the whole puzzle."

She nodded but he could hear her heart pounding and the little sniffles she was trying to keep to herself.

All he wanted to do was make her pain go away.

So he slid off the fire escape and sat next to her on the window sill, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Grateful for the reassurance she sunk into him, her head falling into the crook of his neck. From here her heart was louder, her smell that much more powerful and the little breathes that fanned across his chest felt like fire.

This was such a bad idea. And yet he couldn't pull away from her.

Then almost of its own accord his hand started to move up and down her arm slowly, fingers taking in her soft skin and the chill that had settled on it as they had sat outside. For a brief moment he considered telling her they should move inside before she got colder but realized that would mean pulling apart and Vincent wasn't willing to do that. Who knew when the chance to hold her would come up again and she seemed content resting against his side.

Cat felt warm, comfortable…safe with him. Despite her earlier reservation (brought about by Muirfield), she _knew_ deep down that he would never hurt her, or any other innocent person. He was a good person in an untenable circumstance. Curled into his side, Cat couldn't picture anywhere else she wanted to be in that moment.

So as his hand started to glide over her arm she moved closer and placed a hand flat on his chest, fingers splayed over the cotton of his shirt. And she didn't need to be a beast to feel the way his heart sped up under her hand.

Gripping his shirt she looked up to find him staring down at her, pupils dilated despite the light illuminating the area from her bedroom.

"Vincent," she whispered and reached up, putting their lips within inches of each other.

Just as they were closing the gap he suddenly pulled back, as he had the first time they'd met and she had touched his face.

"You're sister is home," he said and reluctantly pulled away from her.

"Of course," she muttered.

He smiled gently at her and stood before sending a glance toward the door and Catherine knew her sister was nearing the room. They couldn't chance him being seen here - as always, it was too dangerous.

"Goodnight, Catherine," he said and she felt a kiss being dropped on the top of her head before he disappeared into the night.

It couldn't have been more than five seconds later that there was a knock on her bedroom door and Heather stuck her head in. "Cat?"

Pivoting into the room, she stayed seated in the window. "Yeah, Heather, what's up?"

"I had a terrible day, up for some trashy reality TV?"

Despite her sister's timing, Catherine smiled and nodded, hopping down from the window and closing it behind her, taking a moment to stare into the darkness, knowing he was out there somewhere.

"What is with you and the fire escape lately? I've never seen you sit there before…" Heather asked as they walked down the hall.

"I recently realized there's more to it than meets the eye."

END

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Again…feel free to leave a review. Reviews are love after all.


	2. Troth

AN: Wow! You guys are absolutely fantastic. So many reviews and follows, it was amazing, especially for a growing fandom. Extra THANK YOU to those who took the time to review, it is always appreciated and I know some authors individually thank each person but I just don't have time, I think you would prefer I use my little spare time to write. At least I hope so! The next chapter should be up sometime next week, it's going to be a little shorter I think…but timely. Heh.

This one went a little off the meaning of the word, but the concept is still there.

Last thing…HAPPY THANKSGIVING to those in the US!

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Troth (_n_): faithfulness, fidelity or loyalty; truth or verity

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It had been more than two days since she had talked to him last. Not intentionally, of course, they had caught a double homicide and she had practically lived at the precinct for the last sixty plus hours, managing on naps in the quiet room, lots of coffee and showering in the locker rooms with an occasion trip home to grab clothes. They were all running on empty and the frenzy of the first twenty first hours was beginning to die down as the case progressed with few leads on their suspect – a handyman the victims had hired.

Just as Cat sat her head down on her desk for a quick nap, Tess strode in.

"Hey, sleepyhead, time to get up."

"Nope," she said into her arms and the dark wood grain of her desk. "Napping."

"Huh," her partner said and Cat heard her moving closer. "Ok, then, you can miss out on catching the bad guy."

Instantly her head was up, looking at her partner with bleary eyes. "What?"

"We got a good tip on Jackson's location. Apartment in Chinatown."

Then she was on her feet, grabbing her gun and phone. "Let's go."

As she picked up the phone, Cat noticed a text and looked at it quickly. Unsurprisingly it was from Vincent (the name displayed was Logan – as in Wolverine from X-Men's real name). They had said contact once a week at the start, but that had quickly turned into talking to each other every day and usually seeing each other every other day, if not more.

_Everything ok?_

She was pushing three days of no contact now, of course he was concerned. But she also knew he had his ways of making sure she was ok, so she didn't worry about responding to the text that second. Instead deciding a call later with the news they had the guy and she would (maybe) have a day off would be far better.

So she slipped the device into her front pocket, the message all but forgotten.

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Pushing her body as far as she could, Cat chased Jackson around a corner and through some of the seedier area's of Chinatown. She had lost Tess a while back, her partner had veered off in an attempt to cut the suspect off, but with the winding back alleys they were running though, she could have easily gotten lost or cut off.

Another right by Jackson and Cat swore under her breath, she was in shape but this guy was testing her. As she turned the corner, she smiled and pulled her gun up.

He had run into a dead end.

"Turn around," she yelled and slowly he did.

_Crap._

The guy was high on something; his wide, bloodshot eyes were darting all over the alley, his body was twitching, hands moving up and down his thighs quickly.

"On your knees," she commanded and he ignored her, continuing to look around.

Cat took one step toward him. "I said on your knees."

Again she was ignored and she started to wonder where Tess was.

"Jackson, get on your knees, hands up."

Another step toward him and she was less than a body length away. And suddenly she was very aware of being alone in the alley with him.

Finally he started to sink down and she relaxed just a little, taking a step toward him with her cuffs in one hand, other one still holding her gun steady on him.

As she reached out, he suddenly reversed direction and knocked the gun out of her hand, Cat heard it skitter under a dumpster to her right.

One of his hands painfully gripped her left wrist and twisted, she cried out in surprised at his strength and the pain that shot up her arm.

Taking advantage of the angle she was at, Cat kicked at his abdomen, making hard contact. It should have been enough to force him to release her, but instead he twisted more as if the hit hadn't affected him.

_PCP._

She'd seen it any number of times, inhuman strength and speed, no reaction to pain, she'd seen a guy high so on the stuff that he'd continued to fight through a bullet to the shoulder.

In retribution the man threw her to the ground, her head colliding with asphalt. For a split second everything went black before she regained vision in time for a foot to make contact with her side.

When he pulled back a second time to kick her, she tried to grab the other leg and pull and unbalance him, but again…nothing.

So his foot crashed into her side again, this time she cried out in pain because she heard and felt a rib break. Then she was being lifted back to her feet and she wrapped one arm around her middle to stem the agony.

Where the hell was Tess.

Or Vincent, it seemed he was always there…always protecting her. Except the one time she was getting her ass kicked and desperately needed him.

A sudden blow to her jaw sent Cat stumbling backwards, her vision blanketed in black spots. Vision distorted and head and abdomen pounding she watched as Jackson approached her again, she tried to fight back. Tried to do anything, really, but she couldn't get her limbs to cooperate.

Just as she swore she heard someone yelling her last name, Jackson grabbed her shoulders and gave her a hard shove backward.

Then everything went black.

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She was cold, so cold. And agony radiated from it seemed like everywhere. And there was a voice saying her name over and over. Cat couldn't remember where she was or what had happened; everything was so…confused, murky.

"Vincent," she muttered then opened her eyes to find men leaning over her, talking quickly, but she couldn't quite make out the words and for some reason fear spiked through her. For just a split second she thought _they _had gotten a hold of her. Muirfield.

"Vincent!" Cat screamed and tried to pull away from the men but the pain stopped her from going far.

"Cat! Stop!" A familiar female voice cut through the confusion and her eyes darted around until they fell on her partner, who was kneeling by her head, clearly concerned.

"Tess?" she asked and moaned when one of the men, who she now realized were EMTs, placed a brace on her wrist.

"Hey, you're gonna be ok."

"Wha-" she started then some of it came back to her, chasing Jackson, fighting with him, then nothing. "Where's Jackson?"

"Halfway to booking by now, you've been out about twenty minutes," Tess responded before one of the EMTs interrupted her and she nodded. "Ok, Cat. Off to the hospital with you."

"Tess…"

"I'll be right behind you."

Quickly she was lifted (apparently they had gotten her on the stretcher before she'd come to) and placed into the ambulance. But before they did she looked around again, scanning rooftops. She had the strongest feeling she was being watched.

After nearly four hours of being poked, prodded and scanned she was finally placed in her own room; they were keeping her overnight for observation despite the fact her concussion was minor.

At least here it was quiet except for the nighttime nurses walking up the halls and talking in low tones. Then there was a knock at the door and her heart speed up, even though her head knew it couldn't be him, Vincent couldn't just waltz into a hospital and then knock on her door.

"Yeah," she called and adjusted the blanket around herself for no less than the fifteenth time.

Instead of a doctor or nurse it was Tess, who entered with a broad, devious grin and slumped into the visitor chair near the head of her bed.

"Hey, partner, how ya feeling?"

She returned the smile. "Like I got the crap kicked out of me. Oh, yeah, I did."

"They are running blood work, but it looks like Jackson was hopped up on PCP."

Cat nodded. "Sounds about right. Dude practically broke my wrist with one go."

"So…" her partner started and Cat cringed, she knew it was coming, she did remember yelling his name. There was no chance – none – that Tess would simply let it go. "Who's Vincent?"

"No idea." The lie was smooth and instant and for just a split second she thought Tess bought it.

"That's odd," her partner said and leaned forward in the chair. "Because you said his name. Four times."

_Oh shit…_

Cat pretended to think about it then shook her head. "I don't know why…"

"Is Vincent Mr. Complicated?" Clearly Tess wasn't going to give up and Cat was thankful at least she hadn't connected him with the case that brought them together eight months ago. But this line of inquiry had to stop or Tess would push too far one day.

"Listen, Tess-"

"I knew it!" She was clearly proud of herself.

"Tess!" Cat said sharply and pinned the other woman with a serious expression, which seemed to damper her enthusiasm. Then she turned desperate, her fingers playing with the cotton blanket again. "Listen…I need you to drop this. I need you to forget you heard the name. And I need you to not ask why. I'm not asking as my partner, but as my friend."

Tess gave her a curious expression but nodded anyway. "Sure, of course. Maybe one day…"

"Maybe. Not today."

"Wanna hear how I saved your life?" She asked instead and Cat nodded.

Tess wove a long winded tale about coming around the corner to find Jackson straddling Cat, his fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing. Unable to get off a shot without potentially injuring her partner, Tess had tackled the suspect to the ground and cuffed him to a dumpster.

"Called dispatch, got a bus, got Jackson sent to booking and here we are."

"Clearly you are a hero."

The women laughed, which then shot pain up Cats side despite the meds she was on.

"Ok, I should let you rest, call you in the morning. Night, Cat."

"Night, Tess."

With one last smile the other woman left and again there was silence in the room. After shifting around to find a comfortable position, Cat closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. She was almost out when she sensed someone in the room and she opened her eyes to find a familiar shape hiding in the shadows.

"Vincent…" she breathed out, pleased to see him. But then she looked around the room and furrowed her brow. "How did you get in here?"

He gave her a devastating smile. "Trade secret."

"What trade is that exactly?"

He approached her slowly. "Maybe one day I'll show you."

"Maybe its best I don't know," she said and smiled back.

Another half-smile and then he closed the gap between them, sitting heavily on the bed. "Are you ok?"

"I'll be fine, just banged up. Keeping me for observation."

"Because of the concussion?" he asked.

"Ok, maybe I do need to know. How?"

"Listening." Vincent moved further up the bed so he was sitting near her waist and looked down into his lap. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Catherine."

"It's not your job to protect me, Vincent."

"I like protecting you."

She smiled and he returned it, just barely. "I…like knowing you're there. But I don't expect you to _be_ there every second. I can take care of myself."

"I know."

Reaching out, she placed a hand on his thigh. "Ok then…But you were there, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah. I got there just after Tess did."

Silence fell over them and Vincent covered her hand that was still on his leg with his own. "If you don't mind…I'd like to stay with you. Tonight," he said and looked at her sideways.

"The nurses are going to be in all night checking on me."

"Not a problem," he said.

It wasn't much of a decision; all she wanted was him there with her. So she carefully slid over on the bed and looked at him expectantly. When he didn't move toward her she sighed.

"You maybe a superhuman, but no one could sleep in that chair and not get up with a bad back. Just…lie with me…please?" It was for her benefit as much his; suddenly she was desperate for his touch, her body practically ached for it.

For a moment he considered it then took off his baseball cap and curled onto his side next to her – the only way the two could lay on the small bed together.

As she got comfortable his fingers traced around the outer edge of the bruise that was still forming on her jaw, the touch almost reverent and painfully intimate. Then he traced down to the much lighter finger-shaped bruises around her neck and with their proximity, Cat could feel his heart starting to race, his expression hardening.

Carefully she placed a hand on his chest and she whispered, "I'm ok…it's ok." It seemed she said these words to him a lot, but it had the desired effect and his features softened, heart rate slowing.

He nodded, but continued his inspection, fingers moving back into her hair, gently searching out the lump left by the asphalt. Cat stayed stock still, knowing he needed to confirm for himself the extent of her injuries. So she watched his eyes roam her body, taking every mark and blemish.

Instead of directing him to the location of the bump, Cat let his fingers roam, they gently massaged her scalp as he explored. After the day she'd had it was relaxing and between that and the warmth of his body next to hers she was starting to drift into that space between awake and asleep. Until his fingers found their mark and she hissed lowly at the twinge of pain the contact had caused.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and slowly pulled his hand from her hair. She noted he had avoided her tightly wrapped ribs but couldn't be bothered to assign motivation to it.

"S'ok," she mumbled and nestled herself even closer to him, lying half on her side, face pressed into his chest. His arm wrapped gently around her waist, fingers just brushing her t-shirt clad lower back.

"Night, Catherine," he said and she felt a kiss drop onto her temple just as she slipped asleep.

In the morning he was gone, but she knew that he had stayed the entire night, disappearing somehow when the nurses came to check on her and then slipping back onto the bed after they left. It gave her comfort knowing that he was there, even if she said she didn't need someone to protect her.

Because maybe she did after all.

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END

Reviews are love!


	3. Terpsichorean

AN: Hello readers, thank you SO MUCH for the fantastic reviews this fic is getting, it really does motivate me! Hope you enjoy this one, I thought the word was very timely given Cat's Dads wedding is one of the upcoming eps.

Also…follow me on Twitter now, user name there same as my author name here. I'll post chapter ETAs, random writing musings and perhaps the word of the fic.

Enjoy and please leave a review on the way out.

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Terpsichorean (_adj_): pertaining to dance

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All she needed was some air. Taking another right she finally found what she was looking for, the large balcony that ran the length of the hotel; it looked out onto beautifully sculpted gardens. Pushing one of the double doors open she stepped out and took in a deep breath, letting the fresh air clear her head.

She'd made it a solid two hours into the reception before needing to escape the questions and looks from well meaning friends and family. Most of her family had tread lightly around her, unsure what her father's new marriage was doing to her mental state. Though apparently the topic of her love life had been fair game.

After being forced to reveal she was seeing someone to her fellow bridesmaids and Brooke there had been endless questions, most circling around why he wasn't there and did she have a picture and why Cat hadn't bothered mentioning him until practically forced into it.

It was driving her insane and she needed to escape, which was how she found herself on the balcony, blissfully alone.

Looking around she look in the clear October sky, it was beautiful and the night air was crisp. It was oddly similar to that night almost ten years ago when her mother was killed and _he _came into her life. Vincent, the man who she'd dodged questions about, the man she saw in secret and protected – sometimes to the detriment of her own life. But he was worth it…oh, was he worth it. Especially when he graced her with one of his deadly smiles, Cat could melt when he sent one in her direction.

"Tired of the party already?"

The voice made her jump and Cat turned to find Vincent standing at the far end of the balcony, in the shadows as usual. And her heart fluttered in excitement, just a little bit.

She looked around and walked to him, whispering, "What are you doing here? It's not safe."

He shrugged and looked away. "You said you wished I could come…wish granted."

"Vincent…"

He ignored her warning tone and nodded his head to indicate the party. "Is it really that bad?"

She considered that before shrugging herself. "Well, depends on your definition of bad I suppose. The wedding was lovely and Dad and Brooke look so…happy. I'm happy for them."

He moved closer to her, but still cloaked in darkness. "But…"

"But…" Cat looked up at him and paused. "But…nothing."

His hand came up and cupped her cheek, thumb slowly stroking soft skin. "Whatever it is, it's not nothing."

Cat sighed and looked at him. "It's just…since I had to tell Heather and Brooke I was seeing someone it's been non-stop questions about you."

Tensing he pushed out, "You shouldn't have told them about me."

Anger flared in her for a moment. "It was that or I was going to get set up with one of Brooke's friends. Which…no. I'd rather the questions then spend hours with some guy I barely know…I'd rather be alone. Or with you."

"But you aren't with me, are you? Catherine…"

"No," she hissed. "Do not start this again. Yes, I wish you could sit next to me, and make idle chatter and dance with me and charm the pants off my father-"

"I don't charm…"

"But you _can't_ and I know that, and I accept it because the time I spend alone with you means more to me than all that stuff put together."

Vincent just stood and stared at her a moment, unsure how to respond. So instead of speaking he held out one hand to her.

"I might not be able to sit next to you, or charm your father, but I can dance with you."

Cat looked around confused. "There's no music…"

Tilting his head and concentrating, he smiled. "Sure there is."

"Ahhh…of course. Super senses."

Hand still outstretched he said, "Trust me?"

Slowly she reached out and placed her hand in his, smiling. "More than anyone."

Vincent wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled their bodies close but leaving a bit of space between them. One of her arms moved up to his neck, fingers splaying on the skin there. The hand he held was slightly away from their bodies.

Cat relaxed and allowed him to lead her body around the balcony, she followed his movements with little trouble despite the fact she could not hear the music. As his confidence grew his movements became more complicated and eventually he spun her around, eliciting a peal of laughter and broad smile from the detective.

As she spun back to him, Catherine allowed her body to gently fall against his and stay there, one hand pressed against his chest, the other still held in his. She could feel his heart beating under her hand and took great comfort in its slow, steady pace.

After several minutes of slowly dancing he spoke in low tones, but with a small grin on his face. "Have I mentioned you look…wow. Again."

She returned his grin at the familiar words. "Wedding."

"Ahhh…Of course."

She laughed and pressed her hand against his chest. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Keller."

And he did, instead of his usual jeans, t-shirt and green army jacket he was wearing khaki pants and a navy blue polo shirt.

"Did you do this for me?" she asked and watched in amusement as a blush crept across his face.

"JT might have recommended a…change in wardrobe."

"Well, tell JT it was a wise suggestion."

Vincent just nodded and looked down at her, eyes filled with such affection; she felt it all the way to her soul. Having him there with her in that moment was honestly the best part of the wedding. So she rested her head on his chest as they continued to sway; now listening to his heartbeat.

As they continued to move, his hand worked its way up the back of her strapless dress until fingers met the exposed skin of her shoulders. Enticingly his fingers continued their exploration, up her spine, then across the tops of her shoulders then down her shoulder blades.

Cat felt her body practically melt into his as his fingers moved, the sensation bringing a fuzzy, heady feeling.

Eventually he pulled away and looked at her sadly. "You should probably get back to the party. Someone's probably realized you're missing by now."

"I told Heather I needed some air. And right now, I'd rather be here."

Vincent cupped her cheek and looked deep into her hazel eyes, eyes that looked at him and didn't see the beast that lied within but the man.

Taking a chance, he leaned down slowly, giving her the chance to pull away. But she didn't, instead she reached up and met him halfway.

And when their lips finally met it was as if they were both lit aflame. Desire quickly consumed them both and her arms wrapped around his neck while his planted firmly between her shoulder blades, pulling them closely together.

The kiss quickly morphed into several passionate kisses between stolen breaths of air. They were both panting, wanting. Her fingertips moved through the hair at the back of his neck and his dug gently into the skin of her back.

Vincent could feel his adrenaline spiking but with her around he was able to control it, to keep the beast at bay. She kept the beast at bay.

Suddenly he pulled away and cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin slowly.

"You really should get back to the wedding, what would they say? The groom's daughter disappearing."

She looked down and nodded, he was right; she had been gone far too long for just some fresh air. Any minute Heather or Evan would come looking for her.

"Vincent…thank you."

Instead of speaking he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips then disappeared into the night.

One of these days, he would stop doing that.


End file.
